by Gina Kincade
“No on the medications, but I have no idea if she’s allergic to anything. She’s a nurse over at Phoenix General,” Grant said. “Wouldn’t they know?”
“Only if she’s been a patient there before,” Joe said. “That’s where we will be taking her. It’s the closest facility and they have neurosurgeons there.”
Neurosurgery? His knees nearly buckled. He grasped the countertop for support. “Can I ride with her to the hospital?” Grant asked.
Jill and Joe both glanced at each other before Joe slowly shook his head. “No, sorry. That’s against policy.”
Disappointment stabbed Grant’s chest, he didn’t want to leave Kate’s side. He wanted to kick, scream, and beg them to take him with, but he knew that wouldn’t help his cause. After she was secured in the back of the ambulance and on her way to the emergency room, Grant ran back upstairs to his own condo, grabbed his keys, and that’s when he noticed the blood all over his hands for the first time.
Kate’s blood.
An image of her still body on her kitchen floor crashed into his mind. His chest seized and he couldn’t catch his breath. Bending over with palms on his knees, he gasped for air sucking in deep greedy pulls. Horrible thoughts of head injuries with internal bleeding and swelling causing brain herniation and death filled his head.
She had to be okay. She just had to be. He couldn’t lose her, too.
Chapter Thirteen
Kate’s skull had a major jackhammer pounding into the bone. Her very brain throbbed with the vibration of each spike. She opened her eyes and sat up. Her vision swam and bile rose in the back of her throat. Groaning, she flopped back on the pillow and closed her lids, fresh pain ricocheting through her head.
“Kate?” Warm, strong hands engulfed her cold ones. “Thank God you’re awake.”
Slowly, she opened her lids, still nauseous. “Grant?” she said. “What happened? Where am I? And why the hell does my head feel like I’ve undergone a craniotomy with no anesthesia?” She groaned again. “Oh God. I think I’m going to be sick.”
Her body grew hot and her throat tightened. Then in a rush, the contents of her stomach spewed into the pink plastic bucket Grant handed her. Acid burned the back of her throat as her stomach lurched even though it was empty. Grant said nothing, just held her hair for her and gently rubbed her back. When she was done he offered her a glass of water and she rinsed out her mouth.
“I’m sorry,” she said, mortified. “That’s gross and you shouldn’t have had to see that.”
“Sweetheart, you can’t help it. You have one whopping concussion. You’re entitled,” he said.
“What happened? Where am I?” she repeated. She decided keeping her eyes closed was the best line of defense against the room spinning and nausea.
“Scottsdale General ER,” he answered. “You fell in your kitchen off the step ladder and hit your head.” He frowned. “You don’t remember?”
Kate shook her head, instantly regretting the action. She winced. “Yikes. That makes my head hurt even more.”
“You’ve been unconscious for about an hour,” he said scooping up her hand in his once more. “You scared the hell out of me.”
The anguish in his voice had her lifting her heavy lids. She tried to focus her gaze on his face but try as she might, there were still two concerned Grants staring at her. “I’m so tired,” she said closing her eyes. “And there’s two of you. Did they scan my head?”
“Yes. No hemorrhage, just a nasty bump, head laceration, and concussion. They’re going to keep you overnight for observation.”
“Well, that’s something, I guess. Always a win/win if there’s no brain surgery involved,” she joked.
“Kate,” Grant said his voice sounding angry. “Now you have to see that if you can fall and seriously hurt yourself in your kitchen, then think of what can happen to you if you go base-jumping. I am absolutely forbidding you to go. It’s not safe.”
“You forbid me?” she repeated his words, fists tightening on the bed linens. “Look, Grant,” she said in clipped tones. She jerked her hand from his grasp. “We’ve only been dating for a couple of months. I certainly don’t care for your controlling attitude. So why don’t you take your domineering self right out that door and don’t come back!” She shouted each word placing another spike into her skull. God, she felt like total shit and not just because of her head injury, either. The look of hurt on Grant’s face wrenched her heart.
“Damn it, Kate. Can’t you see that you could die? That you could’ve died today?” Anguish and terror filled his voice. “I love you, you stubborn, nosey, woman! You’ve made my life worth living again. With you by my side, I can face the world without fear for the first time since I can remember. I don’t know how to live without you. And I won’t let you commit suicide just because you have Boredom Susceptibility seeking needless thrills to fill a void in your life!”
I love you…
Kate’s heart stuttered at his words. But she couldn’t do this. Not right now. Maybe not ever. Then the rest of his words sunk into her pained consciousness and her anger spiked.
“Now you’re diagnosing me like one of your patients? How dare you! You don’t know me, what I’ve had to put up with in my life. Get out!” she shouted. Her head ached and her nausea was on the rise. Tossing her cookies in front of him once was enough embarrassment to last her a lifetime.
A stunned look of disbelief etched his strong features. “Kate, wait, that’s not what I—”
“Leave, now,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “You don’t really love me, Grant,” she said sadly. “In your desperation to be free of your self induced prison, you’ve latched onto me like a lifeline. I’m not your cure.”
“You’re wrong, Kate, so very wrong. This isn’t over,” he said and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “We will talk about this later. Get some rest, love.”
His tenderness deflated her anger. She shut her heavy lids and tears spilled onto her cheeks. She loved him, too, she realized. How could she have let this happen? Fallen in love with a bossy OCD psychiatrist who thought she was the answer to his problem?
Chapter Fourteen
Kate managed to avoid Grant for several days after being discharged from the hospital. It wasn’t as hard of a task as she’d thought it would be considering she worked night shift and he worked regular doctor’s hours Monday through Friday 9am to 5pm. But she couldn’t stay at work forever and there were only so many places she could go on her days off. Her friends were beginning to ask questions. Questions she’d like to avoid. And when he’d started blowing up her phone with text messages and phone calls, she’d just turned the device off. Avoidance really was one of her best qualities. Bitterness sat heavy in the middle of her chest.
Had Grant been right when he’d accused her of being a thrill seeker? Had she been looking to fulfill a void in her life by doing the dangerous stunts she performed during her downtime? Truth was, she envied others with close-knit families. If she had a mother and father who cared for her and would be proud of her, would she have developed her interests in skydiving, base-jumping, and zip-ling? Oh, she knew others had similar interests, but not a single one of her friends tried reckless things on purpose.
Boredom Susceptibility. She’d actually gone so far as to look up the term. According to Google, it was the tendency to become easily bored by familiar situations, people, and routine work. That certainly described her to a T. She’d always been restless with life, seeking more.
She sighed, pulling into her drive. She knew she couldn’t avoid him forever. Searching the parking lot she didn’t see Grant’s truck. Relief swept through her. Score one for her, she thought miserably. Once inside her condo, she stripped off her scrubs, deposited them in the laundry basket, and slipped into her favorite worn oversized Dbacks T-shirt. Exhausted from her double shift in the ER, she fell into bed and let sleep overtake her.
*****
Grant drummed his finger on his large maple desk, l
ost in thought. How the hell was he going to get Kate to listen to him? He’d be damned if he’d just let her throw away what they had because of her stubbornness. So what if he was bossy? They could work this out and compromise like any other normal civilized adults.
He could kick himself in the ass for throwing out psych terminology at her, but he’d been so terrified he’d lost her he’d gone back to doing what he’d always been good at. Telling people what to do with their lives. But why did he have to be such an asshole and go all caveman on her? Women didn’t like that. Well, most women, he amended. There were those unusual types of submissive women out there who lived to please, but Kate wasn’t one of those. Not by a long shot.
So how did he fucking fix this if she wouldn’t answer his calls or text message? Whatever he came up with it had to be a big, over the top grand gesture. Something that showed Kate that he loved and valued her for being the one woman who’d stolen his heart, body, and soul. But how? He’d learned all of Kate’s rituals, obsessed over them even. There had to be a way to use that to his advantage.
Chapter Fifteen
Kate glanced over the vast canyon as she stood on the old Burro Creek Bridge. Helmet in place, gloves on, and her line secured, she was ready to jump. It was almost her turn, but she had yet to feel that old excitement. She cringed when the word thrill popped into her head. The beautiful scenery before her against the streaked colored sky at dusk made her sad. She used to enjoy desert sunsets with Grant on their shared patio with a glass of wine and catch up on their time apart.
She moved away from the jump zone, unhooked her safety line, and removed her helmet.
“Kate?” Rob asked. “What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry, Rob,” she said. “I’m not jumping today. My heart’s not in it.”
“Is this because of what’s his face?” Tara asked.
Kate shrugged. “No, not really. I just have a lot of things on my mind. I can’t really concentrate on what I’m supposed to be doing. I don’t want to make a mistake and kill myself.”
Tara and Rob both stared at her, incredulous expressions on their faces. The three of them had taken vacations together for years. The more intense, the better.
Tara placed the back of her hand on Kate’s forehead. “You feel okay, honey? That knock on your head a couple of weeks ago still bothering you?”
“No,” Kate said and forced a smile. She didn’t want to ruin their jump. “I’m fine, really. I just—”
The sound of a four-wheel drive pickup truck coming to a screeching halt cut her off. Through the haze of dust, Grant bounded out of the cab and rushed over to her. He was dressed in jump gear and held a helmet in the crook of his arm.
“Grant!” she said, feasting her eyes on him hungrily.
God, she’d missed him. She hadn’t realized how much until this very moment. His dark chestnut hair tousled by the light winds, blue gaze serious, sensuous mouth drawn into a thin line. Why was he dressed like that? He wouldn’t possibly… Kate’s heart leapt.
He marched right up to her, handed Rob his helmet, and wrapped her in his arms. “You’re the most infuriating, beautiful, hard headed, sexy woman I’ve ever met,” he said and then claimed her mouth.
Kate forgot that she was supposed to be mad at him. She forgot everything but the feel of his firm lips on hers. His kiss was hot, hungry and possessive as his mouth slanted over hers. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged him closer, losing herself in his scent, the demanding pull on her hair as he fisted his hands in the loose strands tilting her head back farther to give him better access. She welcomed the sharp pinpricks on her scalp as their tongues tangled.
“Ahem.” A discreet cough broke them apart. “We’ll just leave you two, to ah, talk,” Tara said with a knowing smirk. She grabbed Rob’s arm and dragged him down further along the catwalk.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, breathless.
“I’m here for you, love,” he said, eyes shining with adoration. “And I figured if the only way to get you to talk to me and work things out was to jump off a fucking bridge to our deaths, then so be it, damn it. I’m not letting you walk away from me. From us… What we could have together.”
He bent down on one knee and pulled a velvet box from his pocket.
Kate gasped, shaking her head. “You’re insane. We’ve only known each other for—”
“Shut up, woman, and let me speak,” Grant said with a smile. “I’m sorry for all the things I said to you. I never meant to give you the impression that I wanted you around only to make dealing with my phobia easier for me. My only excuse was that I was out of my mind with worry after seeing you unconscious and bleeding on the floor. I can be an obstinate ass, but I truly have no desire to control you. If you want to jump out of fucking airplanes or off bridges, I won’t like it one bit, but I won’t try to stop you. Can you forgive me?”
“Oh, Grant,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “Of course I forgive you.”
“Family is a fragile thing, love,” he said. “After I lost my parents, I never believed I’d find a family of my own until you walked into my life—uninvited, I might add.”
His lips curved into one of his panty-melting smiles and Kate’s heart somersaulted in her chest. He opened the lid and nestled in the dark velvet groove was a two-carat, heart-shaped pink diamond engagement ring with pink diamonds encircling the entire band. Her breath caught.
“You are my family, baby, and I’m yours. I will love you, cherish you, and make you ever forget that your parents treated you like shit growing up. And in time, we will have our own family.”
“Grant,” she said, uneasily. “You make it sound so simple.”
He frowned. “It is simple. As simple as you jumping off this bridge. Even though this will be one of the hardest things I’ll ever do, I’ll jump right along with you to prove to you how serious I am about us and our future. And if we die, because just let me throw this out there, the statistics for the rate of fatalities over an eleven-year period for base-jumping is one out of every 2,317 jumps. I don’t want to go through life without you. So if you jump, God damn it, so do I.”
She gasped. “You’re joking!”
“Try me,” he said, mouth drawn into a hard, thin line. The only telltale sign of his nerves was the slight tremble of his hand as he held the engagement ring out to her.
He is terrified, but he’d jump for her. When had she ever had anyone in her life that cared that deeply for her that they’d put aside their own fears just to be with her? Her. Loved swelled within her breast and a slow smile curved her lips.
“You’re not joking,” she said slowly. “Okay, Dr. Grant Anderson, I’ll take you on. If you can handle a little excitement now and again, I’ll put up with all your rants on safety statistics and OCD tendencies.”
Grant glanced over the rail of the catwalk and visibly swallowed. “Are we jumping now?”
He looked so adorably uncomfortable that she decided to let him off the hook. She slipped her arms around his neck and tugged him close. “Well, Dr. Grant,” she said, her tone husky. “I’m pretty sure there’s a few other thrills to explore in our bed.”
Grant’s dark blue eyes grew molten. “I like the way you’re thinking.”
She leaned up on her toes and nibbled at his jaw. “Yes,” she said. “After all, we must practice safety first. We need to cure a few of your other phobias first.”
His head lulled back as she continued to lick and suck her way down his throat. “Mmmm,” he moaned. “I definitely think that sex is the best medicine, and I want to spend my life as healthy as possible.”
THE END
Bad Medicine by Red L. Jameson
Ryder
She sees me.
Smoking.
Shit.
Blowing out a long trail of blue smoke in the purple haze of sunset, I try like hell not to wince. I didn’t want her to see me smoke. And I don’t, usually. My buddy, Adam, was the smoker. I just got it in my
head that if I lit up, he’d be closer. He’s been dead for more than four years now. So I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.
Dr. Asha Whitetail makes a quick beeline for the emergency department from the staff parking lot, where I’m standing near my beat up motorcycle, fucking smoking. Her twenty-four-hour shift is about to begin. My measly twelve-hour one is also about to start.
The slanting sun hits her just right, bouncing off her shiny black hair that she’s tucked into a messy bun on the top of her head, giving her the appearance of a lavender halo. She’s so fucking beautiful that my heart does what it has since the first second I saw her two months ago—it stops then kicks into high gear, making my ribs hurt, making it hard to breathe.
Yeah, got it bad for her.
But I can’t have her.
Not just because she’s so fucking beautiful, while I’m…With a sigh, I realize I’m a lot like my bike. I have scars, many visible. I look rough because I probably am. And although I’m up and kicking, I’m not quite running the way I’m supposed to. I know that. I’m fucked up. Inside.
And she’s a young doctor who saves lives every day. Like her silky skin, she’s pure. Flawless. Sweet. Kind. Shit, the first time I saw her smile at a patient I almost fell to my knees. I had this weird impulse. So fucking primitive. I wanted to hike her over my shoulder, take her into the janitor’s closet to confine her in a small space and…not hurt her. I’m not a complete asshole. Although, some might argue about that. No, the impulse wasn’t about touching her. But just to be close to her. To be close to the warmth she exudes. To look at her up close. To see her smile. At me.
Imprisoning her would certainly endear her to me, I’m sure. Maybe it’s because I have a dick. Maybe I am related to Neanderthals. I don’t know, but I fucking want her. So bad. Not for sex. Although, I hate to admit how many times I’ve imagined her under me. All my masturbation fantasies are about her now. She’s been in my bed thousands of times. I’ve been inside her, making her legs shake and call out my name. But when I come, I feel dirty, which I usually like. But not with her. She’s too good for a man like me.
